


In Too Deep

by snack_size



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, M/M, Minor Violence, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck is on the trail of the man he knows has killed a local gangster - and is convinced that this is what will finally get him his detectives promotion. </p><p>Instead he gets shot in the stomach and held hostage by some mobsters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Too Deep

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Pacific Rim Reverse Big Bang and was inspired [ by the gorgeous art by Tsailanza. ](http://tsailanza.tumblr.com/post/76299847857/busted-by-tsailanza) She also made [this wonderful movie style poster](http://tsailanza.tumblr.com/post/76397497320/in-too-deep-by-tsailanza) with bad ass lady cop Sasha and disgruntled Max. Please go lavish her with praise.
> 
> Significant assistance in brainstorming was provided by Toast and Achilleees helped brainstorm and beta so they are amazing and I love them.

Chuck grinned when he saw the man with his hands shoved in his pockets. He had thought for a moment he had lost him. _Gotcha, blondie,_ he thought. He kept a few paces behind him and made sure there were always one or two people to act as a buffer between them.

This was definitely going to earn him his promotion - youngest detective currently working in the department. He was going to be the one to solve the murder that had plagued the department for weeks.

Yuri Gabarov was a drug dealer that had been on the radar at major crimes for some time. Chuck had stumbled on the murder when he had been doing a stakeout, waiting to bust one of Gaborov’s flunkies in a drug deal. The whole thing had gone ridiculously wrong when Gabarov had turned up to talk to the flunkie and they were ambushed by two men - and Chuck saw the one who had to have shot Gaborov. Tall, blonde, wearing a distinctive leather jacket with a sheepskin collar. Like some kind of old time fighter pilot.

“I can break this,” he said to Sasha, after he told her what he had learned from canvassing the neighborhood. “I saw the guy, I can find him.” More than that, he’d been reading up on Gabarov for weeks in his spare time. He could follow the trails he’d identified and he was sure it would lead to something.

Sasha shook her head. Even though Chuck had got a good look at him, got information from one of the neighbors on his car… “Your time will come, Little Hansen,” she said. She looked like she wanted to pat his head.

Chuck simmered the whole evening. _I could break this,_ he said to Max. _I’m a fucking witness myself._ Max met his eyes. _I would get promoted for sure, I figure out who offed Gabarov. Could lead to other stuff._ He looked around his small apartment, the crumbling wall that sometimes deposited bits of plaster in Max’s dog dish. _A raise._ Max wiggled his tail.

At least someone was supportive of him.

It had taken some serious digging for him to figure out who the blonde likely was. Chuck wasn’t averse to this type of research and work, and he knew that as a detective it was a large part of what he was going to be doing, but damn, it was boring. Plus the black market and mob scene in the city was incredibly complex and webbed, and it took several days for him to untangle things to the point that he had a pretty clear idea of where the blonde came from.

Hannibal Chau - one of the few who was not Russian and a large grade weapons and drug importer. He had been established for some time with weapons but was making a move in with heroin. Gabarov and his people made a clear target. It took some more investigation - or detecting - before he was able to get a comprehensive list of Chau’s known associates. They had all had stupid nicknames, Scunner, Raiju, Gipsy, Danger. It took Chuck a week before he was able to find out some of the places where the one he guessed was the blonde normally frequented.

It didn’t take long to find him. This time the blonde was dressed in a suit - which served to highlight his lean frame - as he sipped a drink at the bar. _Fuck,_ Chuck thought, because his murderer was hot. Sort of slimy hot, but hot nonetheless.

The blonde chatted with the bartender eagerly until his took his phone out. Then he left what appeared to be a very decent tip and stepped out.

Chuck followed the blonde man towards a warehouse and paused when another blonde head appeared and began to walk with his suspect. Chuck cocked his head - they looked remarkably alike. They could be brothers. Blondie the second was younger, though, and had a mop of hair on top of his head that was in sharp contrast to Chuck’s suspect’s gelled hairstyle. The second brother was in the same shearling bomber jacket Chuck had seen the other in when he killed Gabarov. Or maybe they had a matching set - wasn’t that cute? It would go along with the nicknames.

Chuck followed them to the warehouse. They had a key to get in. Chuck walked around until he was able to find a rusted lock. He hit it, hard, with the butt of his gun and grinned as it crumbled. Everyone in the city feared Chau’s crime syndicate - this really didn’t seem like the type of place he would do business.

Chuck slowly crept through the steel shelves in the warehouse that were stocked with who knows what, following the sound of voices that were muffled by the sheer amount of shit in the place. Eventually he was able to see them. They were standing near two other men.

“Look. Just telling you what Chau said.” One of the blonde brothers.

“I have been dealing with Chau for years now,” said another voice, probably the purchaser. “These terms are not acceptable.”

“Then I guess you don’t get the goods,” said the second blonde brother. “Too bad, too, straight from Russia and deadly as all-”

“I know that,” said the purchaser. “But you are charging-”

Chuck snuck up until he was able to see the transaction closer.

“We don’t set the prices,” said his suspect. “We just make the trade.”

The purchaser had only brought one other person with him and they were both standing hard, tight, and looked pretty trigger happy.

Didn’t matter. They were all about to get busted. “Yeah, you expect me to believe that?” asked the purchaser.

Chuck stepped out of the shadows, ready for his moment - not that anyone was going to see it, but still- and watched as his suspect put his brother into a headlock to bring him down, saving him from the bullet fired by the purchaser’s henchmen.

Chuck raised his weapon, prepared, and managed to get a shot off on the henchman. _Always take out the trigger happy asshole,_ his dad always said. _You have a shot, you take it._

“And who the fuck is that?” said the purchaser. “You said two on two-” he raised his own weapon. One of the brothers shot, Chuck got a shot off, the henchmen shot, and then Chuck felt a searing pain in his gut.

He fell, clutching his stomach - it was burning, and his hands were wet and sticky almost instantly. “Fuck,” he said, and reached for his weapon, but it was too late.

The purchaser and the henchman were dead and the two brothers were staring at him. Neither was injured. “Who the fuck are you?” his original suspect demanded.

“You’re - I’m-” Chuck said, and then collapsed down to his knees and then his side. The bullet was still lodged in him, he could feel it, and fucking Christ it was like something was trying to sear him from the inside out.

“We need to call an ambulance, Yance-” said the other blonde, and he looked like he was about to kneel down next to Chuck.

“Why, so they can see all this?” Yance - what the fuck kind of name was that? - asked.

“Take him outside, dump him somewhere, call an ambulance - fuck, Yancy, he’s just a kid-” said the younger brother.

“M’not-” Chuck protested.

“No unnecessary casualties-”

“And what’s the kid doing here, anyway? With a gun?” Yancy asked. “Huh, Raleigh? He’s not unnecessary - this is risking everything we’ve been working towards-”

“Help me pick him up,” said Raleigh. _Worst criminal names ever,_ Chuck thought. _Raleigh and Yancy. Like they could ever claim, oi, no, not me, that other Raleigh…_

He groaned as Raleigh picked him up by the armpits. Chuck felt vomit rise in the back of his throat. This was not how things were supposed to go at all.

As they carried him he lost consciousness intermittently, thinking of his old man and hoping he would feed Max. Poor Max, he was never going to know what happened to Chuck…

Then he realized he was in a car, and he began to hope. After all, the blondies didn’t know he was a cop - he could have just been some rival trying to get in on whatever it was they were trading for Chau. And how was that for a scoop? Not only closing a murder investigation but getting two of Chau’s associates behind bars? Bringing down the city’s biggest crime ring?

“Look, we’ll just pop him outside and call the-”

A phone rang. “Shit,” said Yancy. Or Chuck thought it was Yancy. “It’s Hannibal, we need to get there right now - and we can’t call some ambulance, someone is going to-”

“So you’re just going to let him bleed out in the back seat?”

“Fucking hell, Rals! This was your idea-”

“You went along with it!” Raleigh argued. “Stop acting like you are some hardened bad ass-“

“You are dumb cunts,” Chuck managed.

“It’s like all of those dogs,” Yancy continued, completely ignoring Chuck. “You give those big puppy dog eyes, _but Yancy, look how skinny she is…_ and _But, Yancy, look at that big wound he’ll die from an infection_ and now we’ve got how many fucking dogs-”

“They’re gonna be guard dogs!” Raleigh protested.

Chuck decided he was hallucinating this conversation and passed out.

* * *

Chuck woke up handcuffed. His hands were secured behind a chair. Something was pawing at him and for a moment he thought it was Max. That his dog needed to go out. Then he opened his eyes. He glanced down and narrowed his eyes at the mutt. He felt nauseous but there was nothing for him to throw up. Someone had bandaged his wound, but he was still bleeding.

He was in a warehouse and he was going to die and everyone was just going to talk about how similar it was to Reservoir Dogs.

“There you are,” said a voice. Younger blonde - Raleigh. He had a toothpick in his mouth and Chuck’s badge in his hands. Outside, it sounded like two people were arguing. “You’re in deep shit, Charles.”

“Chuck,” he replied, even though it really didn’t matter. He just didn’t really want to die being called Charles.

“Yeah, whatever, Chuck, you want to tell me what you were doing in that warehouse?”

“Following your accomplice,” Chuck replied. The dog was still licking his leg - it appeared to be concerned. Chuck also really didn’t want to die without seeing Max again. “He murdered Yuri Gabarov.”

Raleigh looked at him and then smiled. “You don’t know anything, kid,” he said.

“You’re not that much older-”

Raleigh leaned over and grabbed Chuck’s wallet from a table. There, in the inset, was a picture of Max. “You should have just gone home and fed your dog.” He was acting a hell of a lot tougher than he had been when talking with his brother, Chuck decided.

“What about your dog, yeah?” Chuck asked, and kicked his leg out slightly. He groaned and the dog looked up at him with huge, wounded eyes. Chuck felt bad - pup was probably only trying to help.

“Luther, go lay down,” Raleigh said. The dog slumped off to a bed in the corner. Another dog was already curled up in it, some sort of terrier - no more than twenty pounds, easy.

“Guard dogs?” Chuck asked.

The door opened, but no one entered. “You know that Raleigh has a bad habit of bringing home strays.”

“Stray dogs,” said a gravelly voice, and it took Chuck a moment to recognize it as Hannibal Chau. “This is a stray person. Stray police.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Yancy replied.

“You usually do,” replied Chau. “And you better - even if that’s some baby cop, don’t need more of them sniffing around than normal.”

“Yes, boss,” said Yancy. He walked in and closed the door behind him. “Raleigh, Raleigh, Raleigh…”

“Look-” Raleigh said.

“Told Chau I would take care of this little shit,” Yancy said. “Clean up after you again. But this is different from a dog pissing on my bed.”

His grin had too many teeth in it. Chuck swallowed and looked from Raleigh to Yancy. They looked like two guys you would find in a fraternity or studying in a coffee shop, not cold-blooded killers. But he had seen one of them kill.

“Wait, I-” Chuck began, but then Yancy punched him in the face.

“Was that necessary?” Raleigh asked - and got a glare in response.

“You’re a cop,” Yancy said. “Nothing else you can say.” He smiled slightly, then stuck his tongue out and licked his lower lip for a moment. Chuck groaned. Definitely slimy hot.

“He’s gonna pin Gabarov on us,” said Raleigh. Yancy arched an eyebrow.

“Think you’re clever, huh?” he asked. He leaned in and Chuck thought he saw something sympathetic in his eyes. He lowered his voice, almost a whisper. “You are in way over your head here, Hansen.” Chuck wished he could work up enough saliva to spit at him. Instead, he set his jaw. “Fuck, kid, we’re undercover.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Chuck said. Yancy grabbed his jaw and stared at him.

“Yancy, that’s not necessary,” Raleigh said, louder than was realistic.

“I’m gonna get it out of him, bro,” Yancy said, also loud. Chuck glanced around - the room they were in was sort of makeshift. Some of Chau’s gang must be right outside.

“I saw you kill him,” Chuck said. “You did it, you’re dirty, then, you’re-”

“Made it look like I did,” Yancy said softly, and he pulled a large, curved knife out of a holster in his ankle. “You don’t have anything hard.” In the corner, one of the dog whined. He looked over at Raleigh. “You thought we’d get something out of him, huh, bro?” he asked, louder.

“I bet you’re not even brothers,” Chuck said. Yancy had a gingerish hue to his hair while Raleigh was just blonde. Raleigh shook his head at him and then looked at Yancy.

“We are,” Yancy said. “You gotta be able to trust your brother, right?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Chuck said.

Then Raleigh swung, hitting Yancy in the jaw. He staggered backwards. Chuck’s eyes widened - not sure he had actually seen what was happening.

“Aw, fuck, he’s got a-” Raleigh shouted, and then moved behind Chuck to undo the cuffs. At the same time, Yancy took the knife, aimed it at his stomach, and stabbed himself.

“Fuck!” Chuck said.

“Go,” Raleigh whispered, and nodded his head towards a door. “Just go!” He even handed him his wallet and his badge. “Yancy, no! Goddamnit, how did you not see he had a knife?” he shouted.

Chuck staggered for the door and then focused - there was his dad, Max, his friends on the force, his future. He pulled himself up and bolted. He ran down a dark alley, out across a street, and then followed a bright light towards a gas station. When he staggered in the clerk looked up and held her hands in the air. “What the fuck?”

“Just, help,” Chuck said, and then fell over sideways into a display of various different colors of Skittles.

* * *

“There you are, Little Hansen,” Sasha said. She clapped Chuck on the back. She had probably been waiting for him at the elevator bank. Chuck sighed. He should have known he would get the welcoming committee for his first day back at the precinct.

Not that Chuck didn’t appreciate it. Five weeks of sitting on his ass, most of it at his dad’s apartment so that there would be someone to look after him and Max, and he was more than ready to get back to work. “Hey,” he said.

“We have got you a cake,” she said.

“You didn’t have to-” Chuck said. Sasha smiled at him.

 _Glad You Are Not Dead!_ said the cake, and there was a stick figure with little X’s for eyes on it. Chuck had to smile, imagining Sasha getting the person at the bakery to put that on the cake.

“Oh, good, can we have the cake now?” asked one of the other cops that worked in their department.

“Chuck decides when we have his cake,” Sasha said - and she did that thing where she curled her lip ever so slightly in order to get the other cop to get away from her desk. “Your father told you that we figured out who murdered Gabarov, yes?” she asked.

She slid a file towards Chuck as he carefully slid down onto his desk - where he would be working from for the next four, probably five weeks. Apparently getting shot in the gut, even if it just went straight through your intestines, really impaired you. “Yeah, that’s the guy,” Chuck said when he was greeted with a picture of Yancy.

“Of course it is, Chuck, I followed all your research,” Sasha said. “You did very well.”

Chuck smiled at her and ran his finger over the glossy picture. “But you haven’t arrested him-”

“Used to be pretty visible part of Chau’s street presence. Now, he is somewhere else,” Sasha said. “But we will get him. Your good work, Little Hansen. Keep that up.” Chuck frowned - not that he expected a different response after the reaming he got from his dad once it was apparent he wasn’t going to die or be disabled long term. He was lucky he wasn’t going to face disciplinary action, apparently. Sasha had probably been told not to encourage him. “Something wrong?”

“Just...didn’t strike me, you know, as a hardened criminal type,” Chuck said. “And his brother-”

“Ah, yes,” Sasha said, and she flipped the page to a picture of Raleigh - though it was taken from a distance and a little blurred. “He is less...well, less known about him. Besides what you tell me in the hospital, some other accounts.”

“Just, kind of - I mean, they said they were undercover-” He shook his head, not sure if he could really trust any of what he remembered at that point.

“Not everything is like gangster movie,” Sasha said.

Chuck nodded and didn’t say anything else. It was probable that he was experiencing a bit of Stockholm syndrome. He might not even be remembering things clearly, either. He had been bleeding out a lot - and it wasn’t until he was back, sort of conscious, in the warehouse that his impression of Yancy shifted from slimy hot to actually hot, in a real person sort of way.

“No, you’re right,” he said.

“You will need to do more work like that,” Sasha said. “Now that I have my own personal Little Hansen on desk duty for all of my research for many weeks.”

“Right,” said Chuck. “Well, bring it.” Sasha grinned at him, her lips incredibly red against her white teeth.

Sasha walked off when the managing sergeant called her over. She had left the Beckets’ file on her desk, though, so Chuck reached forward to read it. He’d thought about them, intermittently, when he was recovering - the way they had interacted and spoke with one another, the way that they had seamlessly coordinated Chuck’s escape.

There wasn’t much information on either of them, though. They’d been working with Chau for almost a whole year, and before that they had been with a New York crime syndicate. They seemed to have been - still were - jacks of all trades. The kind of person that would do whatever you needed done.

Chuck sighed as he looked at the smirk on Yancy’s face in the surveillance photo. He was in a suit that was pretty similar to the one Chuck had met him in, hair perfect, and for a moment it appeared he was staring right at Chuck.

* * *

Chuck hated his dress uniform - tight, too starched, and he felt like when he was a kid and used to have to part his hair and wear a little bow tie while his old man and mum dragged him to see various relatives at Christmas.

It was made even more uncomfortable on how he was still sore, seven weeks after getting shot. His wound was a scar and he still hadn’t quite healed. Who knew that cutting through a muscle to get at the intestines a bullet sliced through would take forever to heal?

Chuck would rather spend the night with Max, Netflix, and some beer. Instead he was at some police awards function to clap along to the accomplishments of other officers. But no, attendance was mandatory - they were honoring two undercover officers. Chuck hadn’t really been paying much attention to the whole thing. He hadn’t been paying much attention to anything, really, besides what was in the paperwork in front of his face.

“Little Hansen, you look nice,” said Sasha when he slouched next to her. She patted his shoulder. Next to her, Aleksis grunted.

Chuck was surprised to see him. “Thought you were working on Bulgakov?”

“Done now,” Aleksis said. He cracked his knuckles. Chuck nodded - of course he wouldn’t get details. He was still just an officer, after all. Just some kid knocking on doors to see if the neighbors saw anything. Sasha’s best little helper.

“Good to have him back home,” Sasha said. “Laundry was piling up.” She laughed.

The lights dimmed. Chuck sighed as the Commissioner came up to make some bland speech, followed by Deputy Commissioner Pentecost, who was actually giving out the awards and knew what the fuck was going on.

“We are honoring officers who have been deep undercover a year,” he said, “an assignment that is quite arduous and can wear on the individual officer. In this case, however, both of officers held fast and were able to gather the necessary intelligence to assist the department and the FBI in bringing down one of the largest gun and drug syndicates on the West Coast.”

 _Blah, blah, blah,_ Chuck thought - but another part of him was imagining the speech was about him. Someday. He zoned out until the Deputy Commissioner finally mentioned the undercover officer’s names.

“Raleigh and Yancy Becket are a testimony to the intelligence, perseverance, and strength of the officers in our department,” he said.

And there they were, the blonde brothers - trussed up in their dress blues, hair neat, both giving golden boy smiles. Chuck felt his stomach churn and could taste his dinner in the back of his throat. He caught Sasha eyeing him suspiciously and he shook his head.

 _It fucking figured,_ he thought. So they hadn’t been lying - they’d been undercover. They’d saved his life. Yancy Becket had stabbed himself in the gut to save his life because he was a fellow officer. It had happened just as Chuck remembered.

“They managed to save the life of a fellow officer-”

“Little Hansen, you are being mentioned!” Sasha whispered. Chuck closed his eyes.

* * *

He was glad that there was booze at the reception. It gave him the needed baseline reserve to do what he knew needed to be done.

Not that it was easy to get to the Beckets. Everyone and their date was fawning over them, and...well, it wasn’t hard to see why. Yancy was fucking gorgeous, no longer slimy hot but just plain hot. He had a Captain America part in his hair and he kept doing this thing with his tongue and lips as he talked to people – and then Chuck remembered the way he had done it in the warehouse, slowly licking his lips with his tongue. But now the tic was slower and a bit more pronounced. It was sort of maddening. And Raleigh wasn’t hard to look at either, but a little softer, and he was completely out of place in his dress blues - almost like they were oversized, some kid playing dress-up. Yancy’s, however, fit him like a glove.

 _Oh, suck it up, Hansen,_ he thought. _Just say thank you. Nothing’s going to come of it._

Eventually the brothers moved for the cheese display and Chuck moved in. “Um,” he said, as Raleigh built a little cracker sandwich with pepperoni and cheese. “Don’t know if, uh-”

“Yeah I remember,” Yancy said. “That little shit who wanted to pin Gabarov on us.”

“Oh, hey, so you got better,” said Raleigh, and he grinned at him - as though he didn’t already know this. The description of him as some amazing undercover operative didn’t really match the loopy grin on his face.

“Look,” said Chuck. He swallowed. “I wanted to say thank you. It was a huge risk for you, and…”

“You’re a fellow officer,” Yancy said.

“You, uh, stabbed yourself,” Chuck said. There was something in Yancy’s gaze, the way that he was looking Chuck up and down - and then he did that tongue thing, tracing it along his lower lip, and Chuck got a different churning feeling in his stomach.

“Eh, aimed it so it didn’t hit anything important,” Yancy said.

“Helped you had some padding-” Raleigh began, but then got elbowed in the stomach for it.

“Congratulations, boys.”

Chuck groaned. Figured.

“Captain Hansen,” Yancy said, and both of them immediately shifted their posture and pulled their shoulders back. Chuck glanced at Yancy’s midsection - he didn’t see any padding there. It was all in his ass, which was round and firm and-

“Relax,” Herc said, and he slid right next to Chuck, all of his medals and insignia glittering in the light of the reception hall. “Needed to thank you for saving my boy’s life out there - was a good thing you ran into these two, Chuck!”

His attempt to make it all sound lighthearted made Chuck want to crawl under the cheese display and die. “We did what anyone would have done,” Yancy said, and Herc nodded his head but they all knew it wasn’t true. There were plenty of officers who would have let him bleed out in the warehouse when he was just some punk kid with a gun.

“You two staying in Organized Crime then?” Herc asked.

“Not sure,” Yancy replied. “Whole publicity thing has been…”

“Always room in the Detective Bureau,” Herc said. “Homicide, in particular.” Chuck did his best to smile. Sure, transfer in two detectives for the openings instead of...not that he didn’t know what he was asking for, what Herc would get if he got promoted - _daddy’s little angel always gets what he wants._ He’d already heard it just for getting his patrol beat.

“We’ve worked with the Weis on occasion,” Raleigh said.

“Oi, you figure out how to tell them apart?” Herc asked, and everyone gave one of those polite chuckles that you did when you were in a group and there was a joke. Chuck began to look for all available escape routes.

“You know, I could use a drink,” said Raleigh.

“I’ll help you,” said Herc. He gave Chuck that look - _stay._ Like Chuck could be expected to behave like Max.

Yancy leaned in a little bit and smiled at him. “You know,” he said, “Not sure if you’ve properly apologized.” Chuck stared at him.

“Seriously?” he asked after a moment.

Yancy nodded, quite serious. “I can think of a way you can, though - you know, given that I stabbed myself for you.” Chuck just looked at him and blinked, very slowly. Yancy sighed. “Look, my brother is distracting your dad, so, let’s go get a drink elsewhere.”

“Oh,” Chuck said, and felt even more stupid - and he also felt himself begin to blush, which was never good, because his pale skin betrayed him every time. He just couldn’t that Yancy would be interested in him. That he might be reciprocating the eye fucking. “Is he flirting with my dad?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer too,” Yancy said, and he put his hand on Chuck’s back for the briefest of moments.

“Right,” Chuck said, and he nodded his head.

When they got in the cab he couldn’t get the image of Yancy stabbing himself out of his head. Or the expression that Raleigh had on his face when he was interrogating him compared to the one that he had now. “Really, though,” Chuck said. “Why?”

“You’re one of us,” Yancy said. “And, like Rals said...you did look really young.”

For some reason that made Chuck irritated - sure, he was young, but he was good. He wasn’t some kid who needed protecting by the heroes of the hour. Worse, he didn’t need to be part of their narrative.

“What you did took a lot of balls,” Yancy said. “You probably just could have thought through the execution a little better.”

“No one else thought that-”

“Well,” Yancy said, and he leaned back and stretched and then undid the first few buttons on his dress uniform. “You did.” He smiled at Chuck, and that smile made clear what Chuck had suspected he meant about how he could pay Yancy back. “You want to make detective, yeah?”

“Yes,” Chuck replied. “And I deserve-”

“At - how old are you, anyway?” Yancy asked.

“Twenty-two,” Chuck said. He quirked an eyebrow at Yancy.

“You had to go to college-”

“Graduated at eighteen,” Chuck said. Yancy made a soft whistling sound. Chuck didn’t know that anyone actually did that in person.

“Ambitious,” said Yancy. “I like that. You can stop here,” he said to the cabdriver, and handed him a twenty dollar bill before Chuck could even reach into his pocket. Yancy waved his hand at him and then held the door open for Chuck as he got out of the cab. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“You guys are both young,” Chuck said. “How’d you do it?”

“Oh, I don’t think it had anything to do with competency,” Yancy said, guiding him towards the bar at the corner they had stopped at. “We made a good undercover pair, and that’s what they needed…”

“Why, because you both look like-” Chuck stopped, not wanting to finish it. Yancy cocked his head while keeping his hand on the bar’s door knob. “Golden retrievers?”

Yancy grinned. “Yeah, pretty much,” he said. “But you actually have to...well.” He opened the door and, once again, held it for Chuck.

“I know how to open doors,” Chuck said.

“They covered that at your college too?” Yancy asked. Chuck met his eyes and curled his lip slightly, then glanced around the bar.

The interior of the bar was nice, relatively sedate, the sort of place where you would get one of those super fancy cocktails that seemed to be popular these days. It was a lot nicer place than Chuck ever would have gone for a drink - good thing he was in his dress blues.

“Can we get two drink menus?” Yancy asked, sitting down at the long oak bar. The bartender, mustache turned up at the ends, nodded at them.

“What, no beer?” Chuck asked.

“We’re celebrating,” Yancy said. “You didn’t get thrown to Chau’s dogs, and I stabbed myself and only experienced minimal damage.”

“Those dogs wouldn’t have-”

“Oh, I meant Chau’s underlyings, not Raleigh’s fucking dogs,” Yancy said, and he rolled his eyes. “We’re sitting there, whole operation is getting arrested, and Raleigh’s trying to find some no-kill shelter to take the damn dogs in. Ended up giving one of them to his platonic life mate.”

“His what?” Chuck asked. There were far too many options on the drinks menu, so Chuck just closed it. “Whatever you recommend,” he said to the bartender.

“The Sazarac,” said Yancy. The bartender’s eye lingered over them for a moment before he nodded. “Mako, his non-romantic companion for life.”

“Riight,” Chuck said - why did the name sound familiar? “Wait, Mako Mori the assistant district attorney?”

“Yes,” said Yancy. “Met when Raleigh was her witness - I wish I could have seen her face when the kid turned up. She deliberately made sure the entire jury was made of, like, grandmothers.” Chuck shook his head. He didn’t know why he thought actual Yancy would be the same as undercover Yancy. He wasn’t sure how he felt about either of them, actually - he’d been sort of dying when he met undercover Yancy. He’d been more concerned with his survival than determining whether he was attracted to him.

“Anyway,” said Yancy, and then he grinned when their cocktails arrived. Chuck’s was slightly purple in color and the single giant ball of ice in the middle had a flower frozen in it. Chuck looked up at the bartender, like, _you think you’re funny?_

“It’s my favorite,” the bartender said. Chuck took a sip of it and, yeah, it was pretty nice. He did his best to still keep the scowl on his face, though.

“You always want to be a cop?” Yancy asked.

Chuck nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, my old man…” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Our dad was a mechanical engineer,” Yancy said. “Bridges, mostly. We traveled a lot.” Chuck wasn’t sure what to make of this, so he just nodded. “You like that?”

Chuck looked at the purple drink, the flower. “Yeah,” he said. “Um - you want to try it?” Yancy took a sip and smiled at him.

“The flower is a nice touch,” he said.

“You usually come to these hipster places?” Chuck asked.

Yancy shrugged. “Figured it would be quiet enough, we could at least hear each other.” Chuck considered this. It didn’t really comport with his idea about what the whole night was about. There had been something so cocky in Yancy’s delivery - _I know how you can pay me back,_ \- that Chuck had just sort of assumed that there would be a drink, a fuck, and then he’d be home to Max. And it wasn’t like he was opposed to this. At all. He was opposed to being confused.

“Talk?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah,” Yancy said. “People do it.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“So what do you want to talk about?” Chuck asked.

Yancy sighed. “You’re from Australia?”

“Yeah, but mum was American,” Chuck said. “Vacationing for a bit when dad met her, and then they got a little surprise...so he moved over here.” Chuck didn’t really want to get into it, more than that. “We moved back for awhile when she…”

“Must be pretty nice, there,” Yancy said. “We’re from Alaska.”

“Fuck,” said Chuck. Definitely on the list of places he was not keen to live. Yancy shrugged his shoulders and both of them looked at each other. Chuck drank the rest of his stupid lavender booze. “I thought this was about me-”

“Look, you don’t have to do anything,” Yancy said. “I was just hoping that you would want to.”

“Oh,” said Chuck. Yancy glanced down and pressed his lips together. The only thing Chuck could think was, What Would Sasha Do? It was generally how he solved most difficult situations, whether professional or personal. He looked up and saw Yancy licking at his lower lip. “I do want to.” 

Yancy’s mouth curled into a smile and he nodded at him. “Raleigh’s probably at mine-”

“I don’t like leaving my dog alone for the night,” Chuck said, at almost the same time.

“You have a dog,” Yancy said, and then shook his head slightly. “No, it’s fine, I’m sure he’s great.”

“He is pretty great,” Chuck said.

Thankfully, Max lived up to expectations. He wiggled his little stump of a tail at Yancy, happy to have a new friend to hang out with. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and he slurped at Yancy as he pet him. “He’s a big sweetie, isn’t he?” Yancy asked.

“He is a tough motherfucker,” Chuck replied, and both Yancy and Max looked at him with about the same expression. Whatever. It was pretty critical to pass the Max test - he’d hated the people in every relationship Chuck ever had that ended poorly. “I need to let him out - can I get you something to drink? Beer, uh, Jack Daniels, I might have some gin…”

“I’ll stick with the whiskey,” Yancy said, so Chuck poured them both a glass and tossed some ice cubes into them.

“OK,” he said to Max, as they got into the elevator to go downstairs. “Now, I’m going to get laid tonight, so you should be a good boy and just lay down nice in your bed, OK?” He exited, stepping outside. “If he leaves, you can come and sleep with me, but I don’t think he’s up for a threesome on the first date, right?” One of his neighbors, coming in with some beer from the corner store, gave Chuck a look. He resisted the urge to flip him off. “How about if I give you the bone? Will that keep you busy?” Max, finished with his business, looked up at Chuck and wagged his tail. Bone it was.

Yancy was on his couch when he came back, drinking his whiskey in silence. Chuck gave himself a moment to take him in - he was a bit slumped, but his posture was still confident, and there was something just sexy about it. Chuck unhooked Max, got him the promised bone, and sat down next to Yancy. They both sipped at their whiskey, then Yancy put his glass down and cocked his head at Chuck.

And fuck, he was pretty, Chuck thought, but with that stupid first-string quarterback jaw and perfect hair. “I-” Chuck began, but Yancy leaned in and kissed him.

It was light. There was a little bit of a question to it. Chuck answered, pressed his lips harder into Yancy’s and reached a hand over to pull him a little bit closer. Yancy made a soft, still deep sound and settled over Chuck. His hand roamed down his side, slowly, and the pushed past his jacket and pulled out his dress shirt to put a hand on Chuck’s thigh. “Fuck,” Chuck said, mostly because Yancy’s hand was cold.

“Yeah?” Yancy asked. His nose was touching Chuck’s.

“Yeah,” Chuck said, and then he resumed the kiss, this time sliding his tongue into Yancy’s mouth and twisting it around his. Chuck wasn’t sure how long this went on for and he didn’t care - it was languid but still determined and Yancy was running his hands through the back of Chuck’s hair. Then Yancy shifted and his erection was pressed against Chuck’s thigh, hard against his dress pants, and Yancy bucked his hips slowly. Chuck issued a deep, pleased groan.

Max barked.

Yancy pulled away and laughed - they were a tangle limbs at this point on the couch, Chuck angled against the armrest and Yancy sprawled over him. “He’s right,” Yancy said. “We should take things to the bedroom.”

He sprung up quickly and Chuck was able to get a great view of his cock straining against his pants and he was going to be sure that this was seared into his memory. Then he got up himself and followed Yancy in, hoping that he didn’t notice the pile of dirty clothes that had long overtaken his meager hamper.

Yancy kissed him while he was standing up and they both tugged and unbuttoned until they were topless, then stepping out of their pants. Yancy immediately clasped a hand around Chuck’s cock in his boxer briefs and pulled him closer into the kiss with his other hand around his neck. Chuck moved forward and used his weight to get Yancy onto the bed and took the opportunity to straddle over him and align their cocks.

“Look at you,” Yancy said, and he put both his hands on Chuck’s chest. His fingers moved through his chest hair and he smiled. Then his hand drifted down lower to the angry scar right under Chuck’s rib cage. He traced his fingers along the sharp edges of it. “Oh, Chuck.”

“Uh,” Chuck said - Yancy was like porcelain, pale and a sharp contrast to Chuck’s navy duvet cover. But then there was his own scar, still red, the stitch marks obvious and lining it on either side. It looked like his little brother had done it. Raleigh probably had. “Fuck,” Chuck managed, figured it should suffice. He traced his finger over it and Yancy closed his eyes. “I really-”

Yancy angled to get their cocks in contact again and kissed at Chuck’s neck. “How did you want to thank me, Chuck?”

“Oh, I...um, I’d like if we fucked,” Chuck said. It had been awhile - he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. Especially with someone like Yancy - he seemed confident, competent, like he was really going to make it worth Chuck’s while.

“I’d like that too,” he said, and he pulled at Chuck’s briefs. Chuck tugged them down and stepped out of them and Yancy stripped himself. Chuck immediately reached for his cock and moved his hand over it. “Do you want to fuck me, Chuck? You have a really nice cock…” Yancy used his leg to roll them onto their sides. He did the thing with his tongue again, this time maybe a little more conscious of it, and traced it along his lower lip.

Then his hand clutched Chuck’s ass. “Or I could fuck you, love to see your ass stretched around me, taking me-”

“Fuck,” Chuck said, and mentally kicked himself to try and at least be a little more articulate. He put a hand on Yancy’s ass and it was as round and hard as he expected, not all muscle, a little soft in the right places. “I, fuck, I switch, so-”

“Aren’t you just…” Yancy asked before he kissed him again. His voice was deep and throaty and he moved to get their cocks back in contact again.

“You’re the one who’s getting thanked-” Chuck said.

“You’re right,” Yancy said, and Chuck pulled away, hoping he didn’t look like he was fumbling too much as he got lube and condoms from his bedside drawer and handed them to Yancy.

Yancy smiled at him and Chuck took the opportunity to kiss down his chest. He traced his lips over the scar mark and kissed it, gently. Then he slid down further, put a hand at the base of Yancy’s cock and pumped. “Oh, Chuck, you-” Yancy began, but then wove his fingers through Chuck’s hair and tugged.

He put his mouth on Yancy’s cockhead and traced the ridge of it, tonguing along slowly and then flattening his tongue on the tip. He continued to slowly move his hand at the base and then put his lips over Yancy’s head and sucked gently. “Fuck, fuck, your mouth!” Yancy said, and tugged a little tighter. Chuck let himself concentrate - it had been awhile, but fuck, he wanted this - and moved his mouth down Yancy’s length.

Yancy groaned and worked his fingers through his hair, more massaging Chuck now than tugging at him. Chuck worked up and down with a leisurely pace, letting his tongue do most of the work. When he got as far as he could, his hand holding the rest, Chuck looked up and met Yancy’s eyes. He was glad he did. Yancy’s mouth was open and his eyes were closed - but then he must have sensed Chuck’s gaze and opened them and grinned at him. “Come here,” he said, and Chuck slowly released his dick.

Yancy pulled him up and kissed his mouth, hungry now, and Chuck just moaned into it. He let Yancy guide him onto his back and watched as Yancy carefully moved his hands down Chuck’s body. “You’re really something, Chuck,” he murmured, then grasped his cock and slid his hand up and down a few times before he removed it and lubed his hand.

“I - fuck, Yancy, get on with it,” Chuck said. Yancy teased instead, pressed his finger against Chuck’s hole and then twisted, not really entering. Chuck squirmed and saw Yancy grin. Then he slid in. He was almost delicate - deft, maybe, was a better word, and Chuck swallowed hard at the heat that was beginning to build in his cock as Yancy fucked him with his finger.

“Ready?” he asked. His voice was deep and husky. Chuck nodded and groaned at the second finger.

“Oh...I - yes! Fuck! Yes!” he said, Yancy’s fingers dancing over his prostate and then hitting him square on.

Yancy put a hand on his hip. “You’re so relaxed already, fuck-”

“Then fuck me the rest of the way open,” Chuck said. Yancy looked at him and then down at the hand with two fingers in Chuck’s ass. “I can take that cock of yours,” Chuck added and then grinned when it turned out that was just what he needed to say.

Yancy slid the condom on and Chuck turned to his back. “Not gonna let me see that pretty face?” Yancy asked.

“I said fuck me open,” Chuck replied. He canted his hips in the air to basically present his ass. Knew Yancy couldn’t resist that.

He pressed his cockhead in first, both hands firmly grasping Chuck’s hips. “Yeah, yeah,” Chuck murmured, put his head down on his arms. Then Yancy slid all the way in and Chuck groaned, overwhelmed by the full, deep feeling. He was definitely stretched around Yancy, almost at his limit, burning and aching for it. “Yancy, so good, I want-”

Yancy thrust into him long and deep, slow, dragging it out, almost just touching where Chuck needed it. Chuck tried to move his hips back against Yancy, but Yancy’s grip was firm and he held him tight. Chuck moaned at this. “Fuck, you are just perfect, aren’t you?” Yancy murmured.

“Fuck, Yancy-” He quickened his pace then, pressing into Chuck harder and pushing him a little more forwards with his hand. “It’s - I want-”

“Want to see you, Chuck,” Yancy murmured. Then he pulled out. Chuck groaned, not quite getting it, but then Yancy guided him onto his back and pushed his knees out. “There you are.”

“Oh,” Chuck said, and Yancy glided back into him like he was meant to be there and this was - this was definitely confusing, even with what Yancy said at the bar Chuck had anticipated that-

“Want to see your face when I really fuck you,” Yancy said, and his pace became harder, tugging Chuck just a little bit further apart. He reached into the sheets and bunched them in his hands and had no idea how he looked, but Yancy seemed pleased. “When I hit just that right spot…” It took four, five more hard strokes and then everything shifted and brightened, thrummed to life and Chuck began to feel every inch of Yancy inside him. “There,” Yancy said, and he reached forward and kissed him hard.

It just hit his prostate deeper, warmth pooling everywhere across his body and this distinct pressure and he needed- “Touch yourself,” Yancy said, pushing Chuck’s legs back a little and thrusting harder, faster.

Chuck moaned when he got a hand on his cock, relieved and so fucking close. Yancy leaned back and Chuck watched as he thrust into him, and then the bastard licked his lower lip slowly, clearly concentrating. “Oh fuck, oh fuck…” Chuck managed.

“So close, Chuck…” Yancy said. His hair had fallen out of its perfectly sculpted look and was a mess on his head. Chuck closed his eyes as hard waves began to crest and he felt his balls draw tight.

“Fuck, Yancy, right there, I need, oh, fuuck!” The orgasm was long and drawn and Chuck felt his come puddling over his hand and stomach as Yancy fucked him through it. Chuck tightened his grip on the sheets as Yancy finished when everything was still sensitive and warm. His cock twitched on one of Yancy’s final strokes and then Yancy came, mouth open and moving slowly.

He leaned forward and rested his head on Chuck’s knee, then slid out. “Chuck?”

“Mmm, other side of the bed,” Chuck murmured, and Yancy neatly wrapped and deposited the condom.

Chuck spread his legs out and issued a long sigh - he hadn’t had sex that...good in a long time. He met Yancy’s eyes, not sure what to say, but then Yancy sort of plopped down next to him and gave him a grin that reminded Chuck of the stupid, loopy grin his little brother had. Then he kissed him, using a hand to turn Chuck’s head towards him.

Chuck kissed back, a little more eager than he would have liked, especially since Yancy was probably going to just pick up and head home. Yancy had that same grin on his face when he pulled back.

“I need to let Max out,” Chuck said, figured it would make it easier.

“You want company?”

“I can - wait, what?” Chuck asked.

Yancy propped his head up on his elbow and turned it slightly. “Or I can stay here.”

“But...you-”

“Oh,” said Yancy, and his smile shifted when he understood. He almost looked nervous. “I figured this was just the start, Chuck.”

Chuck felt a familiar and uncomfortable warmth build at his chest and his face. Stupid pale freckled skin, he thought, and blushed. “You want-”

“Well, if you do. Like I said.”

“You don’t even know me,” Chuck said.

“Well,” said Yancy. “I know you’re smart enough you figured out who I was just from seeing me with Gabarov. You managed to trail me, you’re a mouthy little shit, you’re a great kisser and a better fuck. So I think that’s a start.”

“Ah,” Chuck said, because he was definitely red by this point. He tried to grab a pillow to hide his face but Yancy grabbed his wrist instead.

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s take care of your dog.”

* * *

Chuck woke up to the sound of a cell phone beeping. He only remembered who was in bed with him, on the other side of Max, when his brain determined it was not the sound of his cell phone.

“Uh,” Yancy said. His arm slithered out from under the cover and swatted at his phone, eventually bringing it back under the duvet with him. “Raleigh.” Chuck blinked and remembered where they had left Yancy’s younger brother. “Looks like he had a wild night.”

“No, I - no,” Chuck said, because they had left him with-

“Oh, no,” Yancy said. “That would be...weeeell, Raleigh does have kind of a daddy thing-” Chuck tried to pick up a pillow to throw at him, but Max was on it. Max made a dissatisfied sound. “As with all of his wild nights it involved Mako and her lady friend.”

“Oh,” Chuck said. “Good.”

“Do you have anything for breakfast?”

Chuck considered this, still a bit surprised at how this was all turning out. “Not really. Eggs? Maybe some toast - bacon might be in the freezer-”

“Good,” Yancy mumbled, but showed no sign of moving. If anything, he went deeper under the duvet. “Move the dog and get over here, Chuck,” he said.

Chuck hefted Max to the end of the bed and pulled the duvet under his head. Yancy draped an arm around his chest and pulled him a little closer, then seemed to instantly fall asleep.

 _This is OK,_ Chuck thought, as Max struggled to lumber up the bed and make it under the covers with them. Yancy’s hand drifted down from Chuck’s chest to his stomach and settled on the scar on Chuck’s abdomen. _More than OK._

**Author's Note:**

> I have also sort of written out what happens to Herc, Raleigh, Mako, and her lady friend the same night.


End file.
